Innocence Lost
by a.lakewood
Summary: This is kind of how I envisioned "Jump the Shark" going about half-way through it but, of course, it didn't go the way I'd hoped.


Title: Innocence Lost  
Author: alakewood  
Warnings: Spoilers for _Jump the Shark_. Dialogue quoted verbatim from that episode.  
Rating: PG-13  
Word Count: ~2140  
Summary: This is kind of how I envisioned the episode going about half-way through it but, of course, it didn't go the way I'd hoped.  
Disclaimer: As always, I own nothing.

**oxoxo**

"There's only one thing you can count on," Sam said, looking pointedly at Adam. "Family."

"Sam?" Dean asked from the far side of the kitchen. "Can I talk to you?"

Adam watched his brothers stand from where they were sitting and head into the hallway. He stayed put in his chair at the dining room table for a few moments, knowing from years of experience that he'd get caught eavesdropping before he heard anything interesting if he followed immediately.

Their voices were hushed but with a few seconds of bated breath, Adam caught part of the conversation. "You hated Dad for saying that stuff," Dean said. "Now you're quoting him."

"Yeah, well, turns out Dad was right."

"Since when?" Dean questioned incredulously.

Sam made a sound as though the answer was obvious. "Since always. Dean, when I look at Adam-"

But a noise behind Adam interrupted his concentration and he turned around, only to face his mother. The part of him that knew that what Sam and Dean had told him was true knew that whatever it was that was standing before him couldn't possibly be his mother. But the other part _recognized_ her as his mother. She was still dressed in her scrubs, her hair slightly disheveled, but the circles under her eyes were so much darker than he'd ever seen them.

"Mom?"

"Hi, honey. What's going on? Who are those men?" She took a couple steps closer to Adam, but still kept her distance.

"You've been missing for three days," he said, moving towards her as well, even though something in the back of his mind prickled at some wrongness he felt on a subconscious level.

"But I'm here. I'm not missing. You need to come with me, okay?"

"No. Sam and Dean can help. Whatever's wrong with you, they can help." He could hear his brother's voices nearing the dining room.

"You need to come with me, _now,_" she said, closing the distance between them and grasping Adam's wrist in an uncomfortably strong grip.

Adam caught a whiff of something sour and foul, something dead. Noted the pallor of his mother's face, the sagging of the flesh on her arms. "You're not..." He broke off, inhaling a quick breath as he prepared to yell to his brothers for help, stepping backwards as quickly as he could and nearly tripping over his own feet.

"You're coming with me," she - _it_ ground out, barely restrained rage in it's voice. It lunged for Adam, but underestimated the distance he'd put between them and fell short. That made it even more angry and it lashed out at Adam, biting the fleshy side of his hand as he put them up in defense.

Adam's gasp of pain was was quiet, shocked, as he fell to the floor, holding his hand and trying to kick at the thing that _was not_ his mother. "Dean! Sam!" he yelled, struggling against the monster. He knocked over one of the chairs in his effort, trying to get away, but it was just so strong.

There were heavy, thudding footsteps on the wood floor of the hall, Sam and Dean running to his aid. But the monster, with it's superhuman strength, tugged him across the floor and towards the heating vent. There was a tearing, burning sensation in his shoulder as it pulled him into the duct and how they fit, Adam didn't know.

"Adam!" The last thing Adam heard was Dean shouting after him, his voice echoing dully in the confined space, then nothing.

**oxo**

When Adam came to, everything hurt. His muscles ached, especially his shoulder. He was on his back and shifted slightly, wincing as pain laced down his side and arced below his ribs. It was difficult to swallow, his throat raw from screaming he couldn't remember doing.

He attempted to move again, slowly, but found he was confined into a narrow space. Gingerly, he reached above him. There was maybe four inches between his body and what felt like stone, rough and cold under his fingers, that spanned as far as he could reach. Above him, to the sides. He was trapped. He tried to push on what he hoped was the lid but doing so made blinding sparks of pain shoot up his arm, but he pushed through it and the lid moved. With renewed adrenaline, he pushed again and the solid, heavy lid shifted enough that he thought he'd be able to squeeze himself out of the narrow gap.

He sucked cool, damp air into his lungs, faintly smelling something familiar. It took him a moment to recognize the scent as being similar to that of whatever had wafted off the thing that had been masquerading as his mother. As he hauled himself out of the stone box, the smell grew stronger. Eyes adjusting to the dimness of the room he was in, he saw a figure hunched against the cinder-block wall across from him. Pulling himself completely over the edge of the box, he collapsed to the floor, landing only a couple of feet away from the figure.

Pushing himself up with his uninjured hand, Adam slid in something wet and slightly tacky. He brought his hand to his nose and, steeling himself, sniffed it. He immediately identified the metallic smell; it was blood.

Adam returned his attention to the body slumped in front of him, recognizing it as a man. "Sir? You okay?" he whispered.

The man's head lolled back, revealing a ghastly pale face that was cracked and bleeding. But the blood on the floor, Adam noted, came from the man's left shoulder. He was clutching it weakly in his right hand, fingers stained with blood. A smile slowly spread across his face, the skin around his mouth cracking even more, and Adam noticed the man's eyes, how shrunken and dead they seemed.

Adam recoiled, his back colliding with the hard stone behind him.

A dry, choking sound erupted from the man's mouth and Adam realized it was laughter. "John Winchester's bastard son is afraid?" He chuckled again, but it led to a coughing fit, bloody spittle flying from his lips.

"What do you want with me?" Adam questioned, already knowing the answer: revenge.

But the man remained silent.

He'd overheard Sam telling Dean that he wanted to use Adam for bait and he replayed those brief snippets of conversation on a loop in his head. Whatever attacked Sam in the parking lot outside of his and Dean's motel had been there to get Adam, but he wondered if his brothers weren't on it's hit-list, too. So now Adam was being used as bait – just not the way Sam had intended.

Adam climbed to his feet, slowly letting cramped muscles stretch, taking in the unfamiliar scene around him. His stomach dropped and he staggered against the stone coffin he'd been closed in. A mausoleum. He was in a mausoleum.

Frantically, he glanced about the room for an exit, ignoring the rasping laughter from the thing on the floor. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a lock of blonde hair lying limply over the side of the stone coffin beside the one Adam had crawled out of. His heart faltered, already knowing what he was going to find, but he couldn't stop his feet from moving and crossed the tomb without consciously doing so. "Mom," nearly silent on an exhaled breath.

Her colorless face blood-speckled, unseeing gaze focused in some middle space, her stomach ripped open spilling blood and... Adam dropped to his knees, sliding down the side of the stone casket.

"Nothing personal," said his mother's voice from behind him.

Adam spun, half-sprawled on the floor, to face the thing that had brought him here. "What did she ever do to you?"

"An eye for an eye – isn't that the old proverb?"

"She never did anything to you," he said, eying the hole in the mausoleum wall behind the monster.

"Your father killed mine. But," it said, stepping closer and crouching down to Adam's level, "I'm not too picky. And now, my brother. _Your_ brother _shot_ him. I think it's only fair that he pays for what he's done."

Adam surged forward knocking the thing over, hurtling headlong into the hole in the wall. He scrambled through the dirt tunnel, ignoring the pain in his shoulder and stomach, feeling the thing clutching at his feet. He broke free into the main room of the crypt, falling to the floor on his stomach, getting a clear view of the open front door and the night beyond. He scrambled to his knees, slipping on leaves and dirt as he got to his feet and ran for the door. He didn't stop running once he got outside, only slowing when he saw a familiar car speeding down one of the narrow roads of the cemetery towards the mausoleum. He ran into the wash of the Impala's headlights and the car screeched to a halt, the passenger's side door flying open and Sam emerging from the car. Dean was behind him a fraction of a second later. "How-how'd you know where-" Adam questioned, breathless.

"I was here earlier," Dean explained. "Where is it? Is it still inside?"

"They. There's two. What _are_ they?" He followed Dean as his eldest brother rounded to the back of the Impala and opened the trunk, selecting a sawed-off shotgun from the weapons cache inside.

"Ghouls," was Dean's clipped response. "Check him out. I'll take care of this," he said to Sam before taking off down a line of headstones.

Gunshots echoed through the cemetery a couple of minutes later and Sam's shoulders visibly relaxed as Dean emerged from the mausoleum, shotgun held in a loose grip at his side.

**oxo**

Adam shoved the last of his things into the open duffel bag on his bed. "You sure this is what you want?" Dean asked from the doorway.

Adam picked at the gauze wrapped around his hand, turning to face his brother. "Do I have a choice?"

"Of course. You can go back to school. You can."

"No, I can't. After everything I've been through the past couple of days. After everything I've _seen_...How can I go back to a-a _normal_ life?" He shrugged. "I can't."

"You guys about ready?" Sam questioned, coming up behind Dean in the hall.

"Yeah," Adam replied, zipping his bag shut and slinging it over his shoulder. "I'm ready."

"Sam, you want to go get the car?" Dean handed the keys to Sam, keeping his attention on his youngest brother.

Adam looked around the suite in the dorm he shared with three other guys, making sure he had everything that he needed. The semester was almost over, but he'd already taken his textbooks back to the campus bookstore that morning. There was nothing left here for him – he belonged on the road, hunting evil with his brothers. "You can't convince me to stay, Dean."

"I just want to make sure you know exactly what it is that you're getting yourself into."

"They killed my mom!"

"I killed the ghouls," Dean said, moving away from the door, towards Adam. "They can't hurt anybody else."

"There's always going to be something else out there. You guys didn't stop hunting after you killed the thing that murdered _your_ mother or _Dad_."

"Adam."

"_Dean._ Either I can come with you guys, or I can just learn how to do it on my own. Which would you prefer?"

"This gig isn't easy."

"You think I didn't notice that? I faced a ghoul that was wearing my mother's _body_. It's gonna be hard. _Life's_ hard. I told you, I'm in. Whatever it takes, I'm in."

Dean's cell rang in his pocket, interrupting their argument. It was Sam. "I'm out front. You guys coming?"

In the silence of the room, Adam could faintly hear Sam. He was out the door before Dean could say another word.

Sam was standing beside the Impala holding the back door open.

"Thanks," Adam said, tossing his bag into the backseat before sliding in.

Dean rounded the car and climbed into the driver's seat while Sam climbed into the front passenger's side. Sam turned in his seat to look at Adam. "Welcome to the family."

Dean was silent for a moment, pulling the car away from the curb in front of the dorm. He caught Adam's gaze in the rearview and sighed. "Okay. Let's do this. Welcome to the family."


End file.
